


Not a Car Girl

by lunardreamed



Series: This is a one night stand [2]
Category: NCIS, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 03:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunardreamed/pseuds/lunardreamed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But a person can change.  </p><p>Or: what does it take to make this a threesome?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Car Girl

He smells like leather, gasoline, and gun oil. Turns out, it's not a bad combination with a great kisser. It's warm and heavy around her and he doesn't mind a little aggression when she pushes back. It's not dueling tongues cliché; it's a tango, trading leads. And she's definitely interested in seeing where he leads next as she eases back. 

"Dean," he rumbles. 

"Abby. Got a place?" Abby doesn't mind a one night stand, but she doesn't bring strangers home. 

"Crappy motel." 

It crosses her mind that this is starting to sound like the setup for a cheap slasher flick that Tony would have memorized every line to. But his hands are still resting languidly on her hips and who can't trust a guy confident enough that he wears an amulet of a Mesopotamian bull-man that _doesn't_ help with virility. Besides, as an investigator, she's obligated to discover if he can live up to his own hype. 

He tries to signal the guy with the laptop, but apparently "Sammy" really can't be separated from his one true love, and Abby continues to the door while Dean stops to inform his brother where he is going. She laughs out loud when Dean slaps him upside the head to get his attention. 

The air cools her off just enough not to be caught up when Dean proudly introduces his "nineteen-something Impala." She's not a car girl and the best she can say about the vehicle before her is that it's black. Guys who are hung up on their cars as some sort of proxy for virility have really never been her type. She's interested in whether the man can step up. Fortunately, Dean seems content with just making the introduction and doesn't even wait for a response. 

Still, when they're both in and kissing again, she has to admit that the bench seat isn't the worst thing. 

He's got good hands, too, up her shirt and her skirt, and the callouses on his fingertips are rough through the cotton of her underwear. He's a quick learner and before long he's doing things just right to have her biting into his shoulder. 

She hopes she broke some skin when he turns a self-satisfied smirk her way as he pulls back to turn the key in the ignition. 

And then, she doesn't care. The growl of the engine through her post-coital body is just . . . awesome. 

She's just glad he introduced her to the car; otherwise, the drive would be a little awkward. 

_the night's not over yet_


End file.
